


Worlds Across

by MOBAge_Hell



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Found Family, Gen, background Penelo/Rem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MOBAge_Hell/pseuds/MOBAge_Hell
Summary: Even though Viera are quite rare outside of the Wood, at least strangers back home had the common sense to slink away when she sent a withering glare in their direction. Here, it only seems to encourage most of them to push further. Whether they're as blind to social etiquette as Vaan is is still up for debate.“Give it a few days.” Balthier tells her. “They'll lose interest and fall back to their own cliques.” For once her partner has a leg up on her in knowledge and experience, so all Fran can do is wrinkle her nose in response.(Slowly, Fran gets used to a world not her own. Slowly, Fran's circle grows)





	Worlds Across

**Author's Note:**

> At it again with the random gen
> 
> I've never played FFXII but opera omnia gave me feels. I probably didn't write Fran's speech correctly but _(:3 」∠)_
> 
> Fran pls come home tomorrow Zack and Vivi ate all my gems

If Fran must be completely honest, the whole thing is rather daunting.

Not the whole saving the world bit; that's something she can say she has experience in now. Trekking unfamiliar lands was part of her job description, though she preferred to do so in the sky. And she had rubbed elbows with far more humes than this in Balfonheim alone.

The attention, though, is suffocating.

Even though Viera are quite rare outside of the Wood, at least strangers back home had the common sense to slink away when she sent a withering glare in their direction. Here, it only seems to encourage most of them to push further. Whether they're as blind to social etiquette as Vaan is is still up for debate.

“Give it a few days.” Balthier tells her. “They'll lose interest and fall back to their own cliques.” For once her partner has a leg up on her in knowledge and experience, so all Fran can do is wrinkle her nose in response.

“Honestly.” He leans in, even though Fran and her partner are a distance away from anyone else “Vaan could name more of them than I can.”

“Is the leading man not as popular here?” The viera hums

“Nonsense, the leading man can only have so many supporting actors.” Balthier’s voice is smooth but his right hand fidgets with his gun, as it always does when the sky pirate has to go off of his internal script.

Fran stays quiet and does not let the amused smile occupy her face for very long.

\--

A week passes.

Even between all the monster killing and world saving they're doing, there's still a rather dedicated bunch trying to worm their way past her social barriers. It doesn’t help they all remind her of Vaan far too much for her tastes. Secretly, she wonders if the street urchin is coaching them while she’s away.

Finding sanctuary with Balthier proves to be a fruitless cause: He seems to be locked in some eternal war with some of the other warriors over who gets to fly the airship. She would find it amusing if half of them weren’t older than her partner, who was already far too old to be acting like that.

Humes.

Ashe has found her own club of princesses with countries in dire straits and Fran feels like the weight around them could probably crush an airship with ease. She sought out Penelo once, but the friends she had made seemed to be meek little things that were frightened of viera among many other things.

A miqo’te conjurer finally takes pity on her, teaching her the ways of not getting pulled into the humes’ nonsense that she only learned from experience

“Were you overwhelmed too?” Fran asks her new friend suddenly

“Mmm, not really.” The miqo’te, Y’shtola, responds while a finger taps at her chin “But there were only ah. . .7 of them, I believe. A much smaller number than what we have now.”

“How many are there now?”

“I stopped counting after 25.”

Fran suddenly misses the Strahl and its ability to only comfortably house 5 or 6 people.

\--

She finds another haven inside the airship. In the boughs were gears tick and magic hums and it feels a bit like she's never left Ivalice in the first place. 

But the circuitry is quite different from what she is used to from the Strahl. At least with her Fran could tear her apart and put her back together as she did when she was still learning how bits of magic and metal worked together to create something extraordinary. But this is not her ship, and definitely not within her authority to ground the entire group while she tinkered with it.

At least Balthier is helpful in that regard; knowing how to solve her problem even when she is still too prideful to ask. The viera supposes she's done it so many times for him that the gesture is repayment, and her partner never liked to be in someone’s debt.

“-and that's where the power runs through to the engine.” One of the other airship experts explains to her, going over every last detail like she's a child that has never set foot in an airship before. It's a bit endearing, though, and definitely more tolerable than the flirting she was getting from Balthier’s other options

“And no skystone?” Fran inquires, and Sazh’s expression answers it. “Interesting.”

“Vaan and Balthier said the same exact thing.” He comments idly, running a thumb along one of the electrical lines residing in the panel. It must be out of place, as he disconnects it from the adjoining panel and starts fiddling with other wires. “Must be nice to have something that just runs on crystal.”

“Skystone only provides the power, the rest is circuitry and other components.”

“Makes more sense than just propellers, I suppose.”

“Should that not be running through the other side?”

A bashful grin appears on his face when he turns back “I suppose this is what I get for conversing and working at the same time.”

An improvement from Balthier’s usual excuses. Maybe this place will treat her better than Ivalice has.

\--

Two weeks pass.

Fran regrets ever having a shred of hope.

“Is bodily harm such a common threat that none take it seriously?”

“Consider how close a lot of them are to Vaan? Probably.”

Fran frowns.

“That never stopped you before.” Balthier turns to her with that trademark smirk and his eyebrow raised “Getting soft, are we?”

“I could say the same to you. No tales of your escapades here have reached my ears.”

“Please, what's the point of a performance with no audience?”

“That has never stopped you before.” Fran lets a smile creep onto her face when her partner remains silent. In one ear she can hears Balthier shift. In the other, some argument about chivalry and a canary in the far distance. The viera has found it much easier not to ask.

“Are you sure I cannot convince you to accompany me back to the engine room?” Changing the subject: another one of her partner’s tactics to convince himself he is the victor in their battle of words “A lot less children in there.”

“And a lot more fools.” The viera shakes her head “Who are eager to see female first and engineer last.”

“. . .I did warn them.” Balthier mutters, then turns back to his partner “I don’t think any of them are going to learn their lesson unless said lesson includes a nice jab to the face.”

“Noted.” She hums. “But the airship is not my friend right now.”

Her partner’s facade drops instantly, and he turns so that their conversation is shielded from anyone nearby

“Anything I could do?”

“Nay.” Not when she closes her eyes and the airship _turns into her prison, her dying breath mixed with blood and smoke and whatever else the Bahamut decided to throw at them and she cannot even see Balthier but can hear him screaming and-_

“Fran.” He squeezes her hand gently, with as much care as he would show an engine.

“Forgive me. I believe I need a wood.”

“Ah. Have fun hunting then.” His voice is noticeably louder as Balthier gives his partner one of those trademark winks. Deception is always his favorite game, despite his insistence that he cut away his Arcahdian roots. But Fran does not entirely mind the gestures that only they could understand; They are partners, after all.

\--

She leaves before Balthier can even think about tagging along.

It is too quiet without him around, but she knows he is troubled too. Knows that working with his hands is the only way he can lessen the shadow that weighs heavily on them both. He does not heal like she does when surrounded by nothing but Wood.

When her ears finally stop picking up traces of Hume chatter, she scales a tree and stands tall on its branches. With one hand resting against the trunk she closes her eyes and listens. It is nothing like the Wood back in Eruyt, but here the wood weaves it's own words. It's strangely comforting, even if she can no longer understand what it whispers to her.

Slowly, slowly, images of twisted metal and burning flesh no longer haunt her when she closes her eyes. It's a temporary reprieve - Bahamut scarred them both rather heavily inside and out - but it's enough to keep herself going.

The sky will always be her home, but a creature born of the wood will always feel at peace in a wood.

There are not too many monsters in the area. Even as she retrieves her arrows out of their corpses her fingers are still itching to draw her bowstring taut and shoot.

And it's quiet. Deafeningly quiet. Fran must apparently miss her Hume companions and Vaan’s need to run off ahead and Balthier’s need to get the last word in and Penelo-

A scream

_Penelo_

The name repeats in her head as she runs, fueling every step faster and faster. Not even stray thoughts of direction or safety can pass while the mantra repeats over and over and over again.

She will not let someone she cares about get hurt. Not again.

When her body takes her to a small clearing there's already a coeurl airborne, about to pounce on her. But one arrow to the throat completely halts its midair trajectory and it crumpled onto the dirt beneath.

Another takes its place before Fran can even notch another arrow. She discards her bow and stabs the creature in the eye with the arrowhead before she wretches her dagger free from its sheath.

Her brain stops telling her what's happening around her, instead giving way to pure instinct. Everything blurs. But she's been in enough tavern brawls alone to know that her instinct was her best bet.

But even instinct cannot help when a couerl knocks her over. Fran never even sensed the beast approaching; too busy with the two in front of her.

She rolls, tries to place her feet back under her, but the monster is already on top of her.

Until it isn't

The viera only blinks as it's now lifeless body skids on the ground, kicking up the dirt around them. She turns and finds a Hume staring at her.

“Are you alright?” It asks, but Fran doesn't know how to get the words out to answer it. Between Penelo’s voice and the coeurls she has to focus on deep breaths just to get enough air in her lungs.

“Fran!”

Everything fast forwards at once, and now the viera feels exhaustion start to pull at her muscles. Penelo is there, safe, but her face is wet and she's cradling another girl in her arms

“Fran.” Penelo repeats, more a soft whisper now, desperate. The viera sighs, long, heavy, and kneels down next to her.

“She barely breathes.” Fran doesn't have to look very closely to tell; this stranger’s ragged breaths are loud and grating to her ears. Something is hindering her lungs. “I do not know that I can help.”

“Please.” She chokes out and Fran can feel her chest ache. And she had poked fun at Balthier becoming soft towards their resident street urchins. It seems she has followed suit.

The viera does not like casting magic in this world: what was once an effortless flow of mana is slow and sticks to her. Like trying to scrape honey off her fingers. But she persists, trying to keep her channel at least somewhat consistent.

Something else sticks, and this time it's not on Fran’s side. No, something in this girl’s body is stopping her magic before it can do anything. She frowns and tries to push deeper, only to meet more resistance.

For a moment she thinks she is making progress. There's finally magic trickling through whatever’s blocking her path. But then the rest recoils straight back into her and Fran’s body seizes.

Faintly, just faintly in the darkness, she can smell sweetened tobacco.

\--

Magic backlash is not something she's used to.

Fran did not have the raw fire power that Vaan’s magic always did, but she knew how to weave her spells enough that the skill made up for any natural talent.

But skill meant nothing in a world where the rules changed completely. She should have been more careful in her wielding of spells.

The viera is lucky that the worse she seems to have gotten is a headache. An awful headache that started pounding harder when she did anything, but she would take that over the horror stories she had heard through her years.

“Closing your eyes usually helps.” The Hume that had saved her earlier was now trying to wash the dried blood off her fur. She would have to wash again later, but the chill from the water felt pleasant compared to her head.

“It does.” Fran hums in reply “But I am rather enjoying the view.”

The Hume - she had introduced herself as Tifa - goes back to work. It's several seconds before she freezes and her cheeks go red

“Apologies. Balthier is a terrible influence and I have a harder time filtering out his advice when I am not well.”

“I don't mind.” Tifa says rather quickly. “It just caught me by surprise.”

Slowly sounds start trickling back into her ears, though her current state makes it a lot harder to pick through the sounds. It's more like the sound equivalent of a kaleidoscope than the layers she's used to being able to pick through. Her ears flick as she closes her eyes.

A fair distance north she can hear two young female humes chatting. Fran can only make out certain words, but it's enough to realize it's a conversation that she shouldn't be privy to.

“How long did Penelo and Rem say they would be?” She asks suddenly. Tifa blinks

“Five minutes?”

Fran tilts her head “Something tells me they'll be a bit longer than that.”

\--

The two girls do return. Eventually. 

Whatever conversation they had led to tears; their red eyes and tear streaked faces make that rather obvious. But Penelo hums a tune, throwing in a twirl or two as she and Rem approach her.

Fran does not expect the hug. But the war orphan makes it mercifully quick before her head pops back up and she smiles.

“I never got to properly introduce you to Rem!” She bounces back to push her friend slightly forward, much to Rem’s horror “She's my best friend!”

“‘Friend’” The viera repeats, tilting her head to the side as Rem remains stiff “I do not bite.” Fran tries to soothe the girl's nerves “Sky pirate I am, heartless I am not. I am too interested in Penelo’s happiness to say otherwise.” Admitting it feels awkward on her tongue, but Rem does seem to relax if only a little.

“H-hello.” She finally stammers out, still throwing glances back Penelo. Behind her back, she squeezes Rem’s hand. Fran pretends not to notice “She told me a lot about you. . .”

\--

“For your friend.” Fran tells Penelo later, holding out a small tin

“Oh, for Rem?” Penelo tilts her head “What is it?”

“Marlboro root tea.” She states with a twitch of her nose “It won’t cure the underlying cause but it should soothe her throat.”

“Cause? O-Oh, Rem’s not-”

She gets cut off by the viera shoving the tin into her chest. A silent Fran stares, unblinking.

“Okay, okay!” She squeaks, actually taking the tin while her face flushes in embarrassment “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“Your friend cannot either.” Fran runs a thumb along Penelo’s hairline “Especially when you two smell so strongly of each other.”

Now Penelo’s face resembles a beet. The viera does her best to not let her amusement show.

\--

Balthier finds her again, significantly greasier than he was when Fran left. She’s starting to think other things go on in the engine room that are not fixing the engine.

“You’re not one to give strangers presents.” He hums as he walks up to her, apparently thinking if he ignored the dirt she would too

“Not a stranger.” Fran corrects “Penelo’s friend.”

“Friend.”

“Friend.” Her eyes light up “Has our sky pirate been to busy to keep up with the latest rumors? I thought that was your specialty.”

Balthier waves her words away “I’ll have you know the leading man has been rather busy.”

“With things of import, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He pauses “I missed you.”

“How you survived without me we may never know.”


End file.
